


Sam and Dean Go To Amsterdam

by antarshakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amsterdam represent, Blow Jobs, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, a typical american in europe, bitterballs, lets just pretend the boys actually take vacations, omc bromance, stoned!Dean, stoopid boys, the boys find out they both dont mind some male on male lovin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antarshakes/pseuds/antarshakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- “I hear the coffee shops don’t even serve coffee!” -</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam and Dean Go To Amsterdam

**Author's Note:**

> I actually live in Amsterdam and wanted you guys to have a little taste. And of course have some wincest too :P (originally posted 2009-05-17)

*******

  
_“I hear the coffee shops don’t even serve coffee!”_

***

The train from Schiphol – _Shithole_ -LOL Airport brings them to Amsterdam Central Station. People around them are crawling, dragging their luggage, running for trains, going in every possible direction. Dean is still groggy from the flight and the train ride and is not willing to take off his sunglasses. Sam had given him some sleeping pills before the flight so he wouldn’t freak out so much during it. It had worked its magic and Dean had fallen asleep on Sam’s shoulders, drooling.

Sam’s studying the map he had bought before they came to the Netherlands. Not to mention the material he gathered up on the Dutch history and their relation to America. – _Who even does that?-  
_ Dean looks at the sight of him; the stereotype of a tourist with his huge backpack on, camera dangling from his neck and a map in his hand.  _– Dork. -_  
 But if it means Dean doesn’t have to figure anything out then what the hell right?  
Sam’s head is barely visible behind the map and Dean imagines Sam’s tongue sticking out.

“Alright.” Sam says, tongue sticking a bit out – _hah!-_  , folding another piece of paper. “We just go through those doors and outside we should see.. uh..  _trams_.”  With that said, Sam marches on. Dean adjusts his duffel bag and follows, glad Sam isn’t wearing stereotypical tourist shorts to go with the backpack.  
  
Outside are a lot more people than there were inside. There are taxi’s waiting and Dean notices that even the taxi drivers in Europe consist of “Ahmed’s” and “Hussein’s”. The trams though, these mini trains, were not what Dean had expected. There were things that looked like it in San Francisco. But these are new and so tiny. Sam catches his eye and motions towards a random tram.   
Sam buys them tickets inside the tram and decides they should take the more ‘scenic’ route. Dean mumbles and grumbles in agreement but is soon fascinated with how small everything is. The buildings, the cars, the streets,  _McDonalds._    
Sam tells him their getting off at some stop so he can take some pictures. It’s something called the Dam Square. It’s huge and there are even more people and pigeons and across the square is some kind of palace. Dean makes a remark over the square being round and therefore shouldn’t be called a square.

“Shut up.” Sam replies absentmindedly, fascinated.  
Dean feels small, even though everything around him is probably just as small.  
Next to him Sam makes a sudden right and shouts for Dean to “Take a picture of me here!” Dean wonders how the camera ended up in his hand and looks over to where Sam is standing. He can’t help but smile and think this was probably the best idea he’s ever had.

“Alright pretty boy, smile!” Dean grins at his brother’s goofiness and clicks away on the fancy camera Sam had insisted on buying. He tells Sam the camera didn’t work just to keep him in that awkward pose he has and snaps just when Sam makes his bitchface.  
  
He takes a look around the “square” and notices people standing on a box dressed up. There’s this hot princess with blue make-up, blessing people with her stick and… Darth Vader?   
“What tha…” he breathes out and then smiles.  
“Sam!” He shouts. “Take a picture of me with this dude. I’ll take yours with the princess after!”

Sam runs back over to him and grabs the camera.   
“Fuck you.” He says lovingly.  
  
Dean walks over to Darth Vader feeling like a little kid again. Darth fucking Vader. Priceless.   
“Didn’t expect to see you here…” He says while posing for the camera with the biggest grin ever and flipping his thumbs up. A guy appears next to Sam and points at the camera and then to Dean. Sam looks at Dean and back to the guy and just hands the camera over, just like that, running over to stand on the other side of Darth Vader.   
“Guy’s probably gonna steal our camera.” Dean says through his smile.   
“Shut up and smile.” Sam replies while still smiling.   
Darth Vader slings his arm across Sam’s shoulder and puts a thumb up next to Deans.  
  
The guy hands them their camera, wishes them a nice stay and walks off, maybe to bring love and peace and happiness to other people. Dean doesn’t know.  
  
Sam drops a few pennies in Darth Vader’s cloth and walks away.  
“Say hi to Luke for me.” Dean says and Darth Vader waves.   
  
***

“Amsterdam’s awesome.” Dean says when the clerk at the desk asks if they would like directions to a nearby coffeeshop.   
  
***  
  
As soon as they dump their bags, Sam drags them into another tram heading over to another square which isn’t really square either. It’s the Leidse Square. There are a ton of different tiny alleys filled with restaurants and bars and whatever the hell more is out there. It’s like Vegas only smaller. Way, way smaller.  
There’s a Steak House and a Burger King and Dean feels right at home. On the tiny patch what’s perhaps the actual square, are kids break dancing with footballs and collecting money. Fucking fascinating.

They buy Belgian French fries and walk about a bit before they end up in some cheesy bar. It may have had a pirate out front. Who cares. Only thing that caught his attention was “ **Sunday to Wednesday; Beer €1,35**.” Dean figures that’s pretty cheap for beer over here, so it’ll probably taste like piss. But it’s beer. He has to remind Sam of this too.   
The place is packed with students and other tourists and it smells, but again, who cares?   
They hang around the pool table a bit and it doesn’t take long before a group of Dutch guys invite them to play pool with them. Dean eagerly joins and Sam shoots him a warning look. Dean claps him on the back with a “Relax Sammy, we’re on holiday.” and goes off to play.  
  
The Dutchies, as Dean likes to refer to them, are good company. They kind of remind him of jocks back “home” only not gagging for each others dicks. They want to know about America and if people really are as dumb as they are on TV and if the burgers really are that big. And Dean asks them about the prostitutes. All in all, nice conversations.  
The Dutchies have this fun accent too, like a mixture of British and American and whatever. It bothers Dean a bit, same way it does when British people talk.  _\- At least they know a second language. -_

Dean isn’t even playing for money, but for beers. He only really does that with Sam. Speaking of Sam… Dean scans the room quickly and spots Sam in a corner with a guy.   
The guy’s also tall, well built, baggy jeans, tight t-shirt, good looking. –  _Wait wha-?_ -  
The way they’re standing makes Dean a little bit uncomfortable. Sure, the music’s loud and the place is crowded, but it just doesn’t seem right.   
He tries to shift his attention back to the group of guys but his eyes keep wandering to that corner. Sam looks a bit heavy lidded and he’s leaning against the wall. He probably had four whole beers, the lightweight.   
  
The next time Dean looks over he doesn’t see them anymore. When he’s about to go check the bathroom, the guy Sam had been talking to earlier walks out flushed and gives Dean a grin before leaving the place. Instead of going to the bathroom Dean goes to the bar to order them some more beer. A few moments pass before Dean sees Sam stepping out of the bathroom, clothes rumpled, face flushed and his hair a bit wet. Sam makes his way over to Dean reaches for his beer and neither of them acknowledge anything.  
  
***

The next day Dean gets woken up by an overly energetic Sam. He’s already showered and is getting dressed, stopping every now and then to tell Dean that they have to leave early and face an entire day of exciting tourist trips he has planned out for them. Well not exactly that, but he is telling Dean they are heading out soon because he wants to “make use of the day”.  
  
***  
  
They buy breakfast and snacks for the day at Albert Heijn. It’s a supermarket. And it’s small. Like seriously small. Sure you have a couple of dozen aisles. But it’s nothing compared to some of the mart’s back at home. He tells Sam this and Sam rolls his eyes, like Dean is the embodiment of the big dumb American stereotype. So maybe he is, but Europe is prissy. Even if the Netherlands is badass for legalizing prostitution and weed.  
  
Sam plans on taking the subway because it’s “something you’ve got to experience” and so they end up riding a short 2 minutes, one stop, over to some kind of market. People selling gothic or hippie shit and it’s kind of funny. Sam buys them matching knit caps saying “I AMsterdam” – _why.-_

They walk a lot that day. See, no matter how tiny everything is, Amsterdam is still a motherfucking huge place to walk around in. They stop at a bridge somewhere and just rest for a bit. Dean hadn’t noticed the gazillion canals that seem to be about everywhere in the city. Every once in a while a boat full of old people and Japanese people will come by. It’s awesome.

They don’t say much, except for the occasional “Hey check this out.” or Sam offering some kind of historical background story which Dean happily shuts out.  
Dean thinks maybe Sam feels the same about this trip they’ve taken. Sure they’ve crossed the States in every possible direction more than once, but it was never a vacation. No chance to be a tourist. No chance to stop and fully enjoy their surroundings. And of course never out of the US. Not even Canada.  


It feels weird to admit it, but Dean’s happy. And while Sam is saying stupid shit about stupid shit, Dean likes to think Sam’s happy too, even if it is for a day or a moment.  
  
When it’s about dinnertime Sam walks them to another square, Rembrandt Square. Dean has decided he likes  this tiny little square better. Why? Because they passed two tattoo shops and an awesome sexshop with tits and dildo's on display for everyone to see and freely advertising that they have adult videos on the 3rd floor and a free peepshow. All that just on one side of the sidewalk which was like maybe a two minute walk. Also, there’s a steakhouse.

Sam talks about hitting another bar after dinner and the feeling he had yesterday, which he had successfully ignored all day, comes creeping back. He’s not really sure what’s bothering him, or why or even if he wants to know all this.

They decide on the Cooldown Café since it’s next to the steakhouse. The people here are varied, but there are more students than before. He remembers the Dutchies telling him Thursdays are the student-night-out-days. Dean can work with that. Especially when he’s surrounded by a group of very fine looking girls. Sam leaves him to it and goes out to grab them beers. Dean’s entertaining three hot blonde clones and one not so impressed brunette when Sam hands him his beer.

He tries not to think about what Sam might do again in the men’s room tonight and it helps when he sees Sam talking to the brunette. Somewhere between the girls telling them about their sorority house and dildo collection, Sam goes to get them more beer. Looking around him, his eyes catch the unimpressed look the brunette is shooting him. Dean does not like her.  
The unimpressed back and forth staring gets uncomfortable in pretty much the split second it started in, so he asks her where Sam is and she points somewhere behind her.   
He sees Sam again, within the same setting as last night’s. Another guy: tall, scrawny and blondish hair. The guy is leaning into Sam’s personal space, kind of claiming him while Sam just smiles at the guy and takes sips from his beer, occasionally saying something back and laughing.   
  
Dean turns his head away at that. He feels awkward and uncomfortable watching them like that. The scene’s almost sexual, as if Sam’s flirting with the guy.   
He takes a long pull from his beer and tries to concentrate on the girl’s dildo story. The brunette keeps staring at him with this look on her face like she can read every thought he has and it bothers him. He glares. She glares back.  
  
When he looks over again to check on Sam he is nowhere to be found. He quickly looks around and catches a glimpse of Sam disappearing in to the bathroom and takes another look to see if the other guy is anywhere around. When he can’t… something snaps and he excuses himself from the ladies, earning some kind of smug smile from the brunette.  He walks casually into the men’s room and yanks the only closed stall open.   
  
“Dean?” Sam says while quickly zipping up. “What the hell man?”  
 _\- Baaaaad idea -  
_  
So Dean had made a miscalculation. A big one.   
“Oh dude, sorry man.” He stutters while quickly backing away. Sam follows him out.   
“I .. uh..” He’s at loss for words and he’s never liked that.  
  
“Well?” Sam’s eyes are huge, waiting for him to come up with an explanation.  
  
“Nothing, I just thought.” Dean lets out a deep sigh, deciding how he can possibly explain himself without sounding like a complete idiot.  
“You just disappeared and uhh…. The beer….”  
  
Sam looks at him, half angry, half incredulous. “Dude… I went to the bathroom, what the fuck?”   
  
 “I thought that uh you and the guy-”  
Dean can admit this is not his most eloquent moment.  
  
 “The guy?” Sam steps away from the sink, slowly approaching Dean. “What did you think was happening here?” He asks. He sounds less angry and more and more like Dean’s an idiot.  
  
“I…” So okay, Dean snapped, jumped to conclusions, made a huge idiot of himself and why?   
  
“What did you expect to find me doing here, Dean?” Sam’s voice has gone lower, a hint of amusement tainting his angry expression. Dean’s pretty sure Sam’s teasing him at this point.  
  
“I just…” Dean moves around uncomfortably.   
  
“What?” Sam huffs out. “You thought he was blowing me?” The chuckle het lets out sound more like a low growl.   
  
Dean’s pretty sure he’s got a really stupid expression on his face but this conversation has to end.  “No! Look I’m sorry okay…. Let’s just go back inside, get the beers, okay?”  
Sam steps closer, his face a mere few inches away from Dean’s and he grabs Dean’s shoulders, tilting his own head to the side.  
  
 “Does the idea of me sucking some guy’s cock make you uncomfortable Dean?” Sam’s sour beer breath hits his face and it’s warms him all over. Dean’s a bit lost at this moment, really. The Sam he knows doesn’t talk like this. Doesn’t talk about blowjobs and does not come out of bathrooms flushed.  
  
Sam’s hands move up to Dean’s neck, sending a shudder through him.  
“What is it Dean?” He asks almost in a whisper, staring at Dean’s mouth.  
  
Dean is beyond uncomfortable but he doesn’t want to let Sam win, whatever he’s getting at.  
“Does this disgust you?” Sam leans forward and brushes his lips against Dean’s. Dean lets out a trembling sigh and Sam chuckles.  
  
“You little fucker.” Dean growls and shoves Sam away against the sink. But Sam pulls Dean along with him, taking him by surprise as he falls against Sam.  
Sam looks at him, eyes amused and smug. Dean glares. He owns the glaring-thing tonight.   
He looks down at Sam’s mouth and decides one of them is a bitch tonight and it sure aint him. He crashes his own lips hard onto Sam’s, moves his lips over Sam’s in one long movement and bites down on his bottom lip. At this point he’s not sure if he’s getting back at Sam or enjoying it.   
He stops abruptly and steps back to look at Sam again. Sam’s lip is bleeding and he’s grinning widely at Dean. The fucker.  
  
“Asshole.” Dean says,  checking himself in the mirror before he stalks away. He stops at the door and looks back at Sam again. Sam’s tasting his own blood and Dean feels like an ass.  
“You coming or what?”   
  
***  
  
The next day, Dean feels more than awkward around Sam. He’s not sure if it’s the way he feels when he looks at Sam’s swollen lip or the way he feels when he remembers how weird yesterday was. Sam is acting pretty normal, except for the times when he catches Dean looking at his lip, then he just gives Dean  a big grin, making him look away.   
So when Sam is pushing for the Anne Frank House and Dean’s pushing for the Red Light District they decide to each go off on their own.  
Sam tries to write down directions for him but Dean refuses.  
  
Dean thinks about last night as he steps in to the wrong tram for the second time, going the other direction. He’s not really sure if Sam was indeed playing or admitting to something. Dean sighs.  _-So what?--So what if my brother likes to play for the other team once in a while?-_    
Dean thinks about himself for a bit, he's “played” for the other team once or twice. Well he was the one getting blown by the chicks’ husband during a threesome so that makes him  _not_  gay. That was a long time ago though. But still, the idea and images of Sam fucking another guy makes something inside him itch.  
  
So Dean is maybe regretting not going with Sam to the Anne Frank House. Because, seriously, how much fun can one have during the day at the Red Light District when the lights aren’t even red. Also, he wishes he did accept Sam’s directions from before even if Sam would’ve marked ancient houses and things-to-see along with it.

So he wanders around a bit. Sits at the foot of a tree near one the canals and hates himself. Girls in a boat in pirate constumes singing ‘What shall we do with the drunken sailor’ pass by while waving at him. He grins and almost turns to say something to Sam when he realizes he’s not there.

Dean actually doesn’t move around much because he doesn’t want to get lost. But he knows he’s close by. He sits in the only familiar place to him, Burger King, for two hours, eating and watching weird people. Seriously the people over here.,, classy old ladies, crazy bah ladies to bald, tattooed, leather wearing dudes.   
  
When it gets darker he tries not to look completely creepy when he asks a young couple if they know where the Red Light District is.  
  
-  _So this is the Red Light District_? – The street is lit with soft red glows. And it could be pretty if there wasn’t such a dingy vibe all around the place. The area is pretty old, cobble stones, narrow streets and tiny canals. There's even a friggin church surrounded by red lit windows.

It’s surprisingly busy. There are even young couples here and there, taking pictures. So maybe Dean being here isn’t really that creepy.  
The women, varying in age and beauty sit behind glass windows in only their underwear. They’re meat on display. And Dean’s not sure if he really enjoys that.  
He walks around some more and the later it gets, the weirder the people get.  
Dean can’t help but be utterly fascinated when he watches how creepy men in overcoats disappear into the little houses or groups of guys egg they friend on to enter as well or are just plain rude and yell at the women. Or: how the women walk away from the windows and close the curtains after that. This is just fucking weird and  _legal._  
He passes the entire street, getting many taps on the window from the women behind the glass.  _-Fucking weird country.-_  
Dean doesn’t really feel the need to actually have sex with any of these ladies. Also, because Dean Winchester does not need to pay. Nay.   
But how can you go to Amsterdam and say you haven’t been to the Red Light District? Sam can explain for himself about that one.  
He stops in front of a window without even realizing it. The girl inside smiles at him sweetly, the red light giving her an alluring glow; her white thong is glowing in the black light.   
He grins back and he points at his left ring finger while throwing his shoulders up. She pouts.  
He wants to go back to the hotel, just watch crappy American TV or whatever and have a few beers with Sam.  
He can’t really think about Sam without feeling something creeping low in his stomach.  
  
Dean walks through the entire area and the dingy vibe is still there. The place reeks of piss and dirty water, weed and he doesn’t even know what the hell else.   
He worries for a second about getting robbed, but then he remembers what he actually does for a living.    
He doesn’t recognize this part and he was just so sure he came this way. He goes into an alley because it looks like some kind of short cut. And Dean realizes that if you’re lost you shouldn’t go further into the maze. He’s about to turn back when he hears music and laughter.   
He sees a bar and notices men and women standing around, something’s off though. When he looks again he sees big women, tall muscular ones, far from being typically feminine.   _\- Fucking Amsterdam.-_   He thinks and he chuckles softly.   
The ‘women’ call out to him, motioning for him to come over. Dean laughs and is about to walk away when his attention gets drawn to a tall, dark figure standing outside looking directly at him, smoking, smiling. The guy holds his gaze a while longer and then nods towards the bar and looks back at Dean. So the guy is probably not after just a beer and sharing stories about hunting deer. But the guy holds something familiar and things with Sam… yeah things with Sam are a bit weird and maybe Dean just needs to figure out why that is.  
  
Dean nods in acknowledgement towards the guy and the guy grins. When Dean nears him, the guy says “Hoi”. And Dean thinks that means Hi, so he just smiles.   
The guy leads Dean inside and Dean doesn’t feel threatened in any way. He doesn’t trust easily or at all, but what’s there to not trust when he feels nothing?   
A waft of cologne, sweat and ‘man’ hits him. The place is full of life, literally pumping. The speakers are blasting “It’s Raining Men” , the ultimate joke, and Dean only notices men inside.   
Guys are dancing together, making out, or just staring at each other with a mixture of sex and love in their gazes. Dean has been to a gay bar before,  accidentally. He still hustled the place though. The men over there weren’t like the colorful bunch over here. The guys back there had worn goddamn cowboy hats even.  
In here though, he sees the stereotypical men in leather pants, men in suits and young trendy guys giggling along with the ‘women’. This is definitely different.  
  
The guy seats them at the bar and orders him a beer, he seems completely at ease.   
Dean stares at the guy’s features; The guy’s good looking and Dean is surprised at how comfortable he feels being here even with this stranger. Dean doesn’t know what to expect though. He feels a few eyes on him but none of them are judging. Or at least, they’re looking at him like he’s some sort of sweet, or those typically dutch cookies, stroopwafels Sam had called them. 

He does feel like a girl for a minute when the guy hands him his beer and smiles at him. So not for the first time tonight Dean thinks to himself;  _whathefuckingfuck_.  
Dean’s about to make a smartass remark about it when the guy clicks their bottles together and Dean notices the hazel eyes. He understands now why he feels comfortable with this guy, he reminds him a lot of Sam.  
Dean’s looking at him for a long time apparently because the guy has this wolfish grin on his face while he takes a swig of his beer. The guy stands up and says something Dean doesn’t hear nor understand but his head motions towards the bathroom. Something in Dean must’ve said enough because the guy walks towards the bathroom without checking if Dean’s following him.   
Dean does follow, he doesn’t know why, not exactly, but he wants to know, something, anything. And if a stranger in a goddamn gay club can give him the answer then Dean Winchester is not one to say no.  
  
As Dean steps into the horribly lit bathroom he sees the guy leaning against a stall door. The guy checks him from head to toe and the light in his eyes change. He steps forward and Dean is frozen for a second, he really doesn’t want to clock this guy one. The guy just reaches for his hand instead and pulls him into a small stall wearing that damned smile on his face.  
So Dean’s in a stall now and he still hasn’t decided if he likes this or not. The guy stares at him hungrily and he takes a sip from the beer he brought with him.   
Dean watches his lips around the bottle and the way his throat works while he swallows. That’s apparently the reaction the guy was hoping to get because he’s grinning again.  
 -  _Does he ever stop?-_  
He puts the bottle at Dean’s lips and Dean sees a challenge when presented, so he takes a sip. Sets his lip at the brim suggestively as he would with a girl and takes his time drinking. The guy sets his hands upon the hand Dean is currently holding the bottle with and gently lowers it. He approaches but Dean doesn’t feel like backing away. Their lips collide and Dean definitely knows this game. His own hand doesn’t seem to notice the difference between a girl or a guy and wanders into the guy’s thick hair. Dean slides his tongue along with the guys and they battle, maybe that’s the only difference. Dean doesn’t battle. Dean just wins.   
Dean likes how the guy smells… and tastes. His dick seems to approve too. He can practically feel how the blood slowly creeps downwards. The guy’s hand travels down his side and rests at Dean’s waist before he slowly reaches down and presses his palm against Dean’s rapidly filling cock. He gives just the right pressure, drawing a moan from Dean and stops the kissing to look smugly at Dean. And Dean, Dean has a sudden sense of  _no-nope-no_ when he finds a Sam look-a-like looking at him like  _that_.  
Dean slowly pushes the guy away and then tries to will his hard on away, denying the fact that a guy could get him so turned on, a guy looking like friggin’ Sam.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He says, gruff and butch and totally manly. “I can’t.”   
  
The guy wipes his lips with his thumb and looks at Dean. “It’s okay you know…” He says a bit amused but also careful.  The guy's accent stops Dean in his flight-response.  
“Huh, you’re American..”   
“So are you.” The guy is still smiling and he takes a step back, somehow reassuring Dean without having to say anything embarrassing.  
Dean stares at the guy’s red lips, which Dean himself contributed to.  
 “You wanna go back in and finish that beer?” the guy asks, easy as you please, like he didn't just provide Dean with his very own sexuality crisis.   
*  
They sit back down again. Dean’s amazed at what he’s doing and how this guy has gotten him to do it. So the guy’s name turns out to be Matt, a bit younger than Dean himself, grew up in Texas, had dropped out of university, moved here and had been having fun since. Dean likes Matt. He reminds him of Sam, if y'know, Sam wouldn’t been such a tightass.   
  
“So Dean, take it this was your first time?” Matt asks, leaning back a bit.  
  
“You askin’ me if I’m a virgin?” Dean asks playfully indignant while toying with a beercoaster.   
Matt gives him and induldgent smile.  
  
“Nah, I’m askin’  _who_  brought you here.”   
  
“Don’t you mean what?” Dean replies.  
Matt just waits it out. “No one.” Dean sighs.  
  
“Okay and who was this no one that made you stop in there?” Matt points to the men’s room with his beer bottle.  
  
“I did.” He hates how perceptive Matt is. Not cool, man.  
  
“Too bad y’know? I give amazing head.” Matt says casually and Dean almost chokes on his beer.  Matt laughs, slaps Dean on the back and leans back again. “It’s true though.”  
  
“Shut up.” Is Dean’s only sane response.  
He does have a brief hot flash of Matt’s pink lips wrapped around his cock.  
  
Matt buys the first few rounds and Dean the last few. There’re quite of few rounds.   
Dean forgets all about the time while he's shooting the shit with a random dude in a friggin gay bar, like he does this all the time. The crowd around them has thinned a bit. Weeknights aren’t really the party nights, well actually here they are, but not here right now.    
Dean has decided he likes Matt. Matt puts him at ease and doesn’t demand answers Dean doesn’t want to give. In another lifetime maybe, Matt would’ve been the kind of guy Dean would’ve hung out with out of free will and maybe even called him a friend or BFF. Except for when, y; know, he keeps blatantly staring at Dean’s lips whenever he takes a sip of his beer. But well… Dean’s surprisingly okay with that.  
  
It’s late and Dean’s is plenty buzzed when they both finally step out in to the cold. Matt lights a cigarette and he offers Dean one. Dean says no but still takes a drag from Matt’s lit one.  
 Lots of alcohol always makes him want to breathe in smoke. Or most of the time it’s the smoke that makes Dean want to have a drink. Whatever.  
His face is close to Matt’s when he takes the drag. Matt just lifts an eyebrow. Dean thinks Matt is the Master of the Eyebrow. Matt is looking at his lips when he takes a drag and Dean experimentally licks his lips. Matt lets out a harsh breath and Dean grins when Matt calls him a cocktease.  
  
Dean waggles his eyebrows and takes another drag before handing it back. He takes a look around him and he’s still lost even though Matt gave him some pretty good directions.   
  
“Remember, just down this street to your left, take tram 7.”  
  
“I knew that…”  
  
“Alright Tiger.” Matt chuckles, throwing his cigarette away and pushing Dean in to the right direction. “Take it easy and go fuck ‘no one’ instead of hanging around gay bars all the time.”  
  
Dean’s left eyebrow goes up. “Fuck you.”  
  
“Yeah I wish.” Matt replies mock wistfully.  
  
“Shut up.” Dean laughs again, feeling lighter than he has in a long time and slaps Matt’s shoulder. His vocabulary is awesome around Matt it seems.  
Dean’s about to walk away when an impulse takes over and he turns around.  
“Dude, you wanna meet up tomorrow? Show me the coffee shop you mentioned?”  
  
Drunk or not, Dean wouldn’t mind spending time with this guy. Maybe he could bring Sam. Matt would like Sam. Damn he would probably fuck Sam. Dean gets a nasty taste in his mouth as that thought passes by.  
  
Matt’s grinning when he says “Sure thing,  _dude_ ”. He steps forward, pretty much invading Dean’s personal space by maybe just an inch. His hand goes down Dean’s pocket and Dean makes a sound of protest but he just stands there, not sure what he really wants to do: punch the guy or tell him to go more left. When a knuckle actually brushes against a tender spot Dean lets out a barely audible groan. When Dean opens his eyes – _when did they close?_ \- Matt’s already inserting his number into Dean’s phone.

“Noon? Dam Square? I'll even take you out for some delicious _bitter balls_.” he gives Dean an entirely indecent waggle of his eyebrows, which makes Dean doubt these supposed bitter balls are actual edible and digestible things.  
  
“I still don’t know why they call it a fucking square when it’s fucking round. Fuck.” Dean mumbles when Matt hands him his Iphone. He’s trying to insert his own number but his hands are not cooperating. Dean blames the phone.   
“This phone is gayer than that friggin gay bar.” He huffs while Matt takes his phone, handing Dean his own back.  
“Go home Dean.”

****

The last tram leaves at 00:30 which Dean figures out makes 12:30 am, Sam's told him about this. Fine. He makes it there at 00:28. The tram stops a few feet further than where he was expecting it and he hobbles over to press the button to open the door in time. He really hates public transport and wonders briefly about his 'precious'.   
He just drops a few coins on the counter for the guy because Dean still hasn’t figured out the pay system here. He’s not going to be here much longer anyway… so why bother?  The guy eyes him suspiciously and hands him some card and tells him he has to swipe it somewhere and don't forget to swipe it again when he leaves. Dean smirks and says thanks and the guy seems surprised to hear that. Dean would take driving with Sam through the endless back roads of the States over anything any day.  
  
***  
  
The lights in the room are off, but there’s a faint light coming from the corner and Dean can hear the shower running.  
He slams the door somewhat harder just to let Sam know he’s here. He hears the shower stop almost immediately after.  
Dean walks past the table and glances at the laptop, takes a step towards his bed and realizes what he had just glanced at: Porn! On Sam’s computer!   
Dean’s mouth falls somewhat open in shock. He quickly turns the laptop towards himself to see it again. His initial response is,  _-Sam’s watching porn?-_   Then  _-GAY, porn?-_  
Dean doesn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or feel …. whatever, he can’t describe it. His baby brother is watching porn and isn’t even being sneaky about it.  _-The fucker probably did this on purpose. –_     
  
He flops back onto the bed and decides not to say anything about anything.  
Sam steps out of the bathroom then, towel wrapped loosely around his hips, obscenely low.  
“Hey.” He says, stopping in front of Dean. “See anything you like?” Dean really hopes that's not an entendre.   
  
“Yeah, it was alright.” Dean tries replying casually.

“Where were you all day?”

Dean grunts in response.  
Sam sniffs a bit and says “You smell.” Dean just cocks his eyebrow.   
“Must’ve had fun.” Sam continues, not particularly amused.  
  
Dean takes of his shoes, buying time.  _-For what?-_  
“You should take me tomorrow.” Sam tries again but Dean just lets out shaky chuckle.   
 _-What’s he getting at?-_  
  
“How was Anne?” Dean asks to throw Sam off. “You peek into her diary?”  
 Sam turns away from Dean muttering something in the lines of “Wasn’t her…” A sigh.“Yeah.. it was good.”  
He grabs his shorts and disappears in to the bathroom again.  
“So what do you want to do tomorrow?” Sam asks loudly from the bathroom.  
Dean remembers Matt and feels guilty somehow.  
“Imma, I’m just gonna hang around the city tomorrow…”  
  
“By yourself?”  
  
“What.. we hang out all the time....”  
  
“Yeah okay, I just thought…”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Spill it, Margareth!”  
He thinks about why he shouldn’t bring Sam along. There’d be too many questions, that’s why. He looks up to see Sam leaning against the doorframe, studying him.  
“You’re meeting someone tomorrow.” Sam asks, more a statement than a question. He kind of does sound like a Margareth there.  
  
Dean underestimates the amount of time it takes to answer such a question. “No...”   
Sam eyes him warily and goes back into the bathroom muttering “Okay, whatever.”  
  
Dean drops on his back again and closes his eyes, listening to the sounds Sam makes. He hears Sam entering the room again, hesitating by his bed for a second and then sitting down at the table. Dean hears some soft clicking noises and then the soft sounds of grunting and moaning only sex could produce filling the room.   
Dean freezes not sure if he should be shocked or amused. He looks over to see if he can spot some kind of smirk on Sam’s face, but Sam’s still sitting there, his back to Dean clicking on something to lower the sound. His right hand rests on his stomach and he’s staring at two guys going at it.  
Sam’s trying to annoy the crap out of Dean, that’s for sure. He won’t give in though. No siree.  
  
He can’t deny the itch he feels in his nether regions as he listens to the sounds again, staring at Sam’s bare back, but he isn’t going to give in to that either.  
He stands up and calmly walks over to the bathroom and calmly brushes his teeth to get his mind off his half hard dick. This doing things calmly busines doesn’t really help until he holds his head under the freezing stream. He tries washing away the thoughts about Sam stroking himself looking at those men or Sam doing those things with men. Or with  _him_.  
  
He walks _calmly_ back in to the room a good five minutes later, his head hurting from the cold water and _calmly_ tells Sam to spank it in private.  
Sam doesn’t move or react, but when Dean lays down on his bed again, the sound goes completely off.   
He’s suddenly very aware of Sam’s presence. He squeezes his eyes shut until they hurt and falls asleep trying to deny the fact that he heard Sam let out a soft moan.  _-Fucker.-_  
  
***  
  
Dean arrives sometime before noon at the Dam Square. He found the place without a glitch. So maybe he asked three different people. What of it.  He found it eventually, that's what matters.

Matt’s not there yet so he decides to hang around the epically phallic statue where he can keep an eye on the people around him. There are a lot of pigeons hanging around there so he eyes them and has a glaring contest with one of them when a bicycle stops in front of Dean, scaring  the pigeon away. Matt grins down at him and Dean can’t help but grin back. When Matt offers Dean to sit up back, the scowl Dean gives Matt is enough for him to step of his bicycle and lock it up near a bicycle rack. Near a bicyclerack, because there are bicycles everywhere and the racks are overful. Dean swears he even saw a tower of bicycles up near the Central Station, but Sam doesn’t believe him.    
When Matt’s done locking up, he ushers Dean through a street to another smaller street. Dean keeps asking him where they’re going and Matt keeps answering with a devilish grin.  
  
They stop in front of what appears to be a coffee shop, with a huge alien with dreadlocks standing by the door, smoking a giant joint. Dean chuckles, amazed at how normal this seems to be here. Matt nods, white teeth glinting when he throws Dean a big smile and drags him inside.

 Dean has pretty much done about most things illegal. Hell, look at the life he’s living.  
 He has tried some pot before, a quick hit with a bunch of people here and there. But that was it. Dad did not approve of anything drug related. Alcohol on the other hand….. There was some Jack always stashed along with the knifes and rifles and charms.  
  
Matt pays for something Moroccan and they sit down in a corner.  
“So….. what’ll this do?” Dean asks, staring at the stick.  
  
“Gitchu high boy!” Matt answers in a Texan drawl and lights the stick up in his mouth, takes a light drag to let it catch on and then takes another longer drag. He inhales deeply and offers it to Dean. “Take ‘r easy. “ he smiles lazily.  
  
Dean studies the blunt before he takes a drag, letting the smoke fill him. This one tastes funny but not nearly as bad as he remembers.  
“Beats the one Hudson gave me.” He says while handing it over to Matt again.  
  
“Yup.”  
Dean snorts at Matt’s dry reply and takes the blunt again when Matt hands it over.  
“Dude! Fucking thing last night,” Dean says while exhaling the thick smoke, “the guy I’m traveling with, yeah?” Dean takes another drag and he feels a bit light headed, “Dude decides to watch gay porn and beat off while I’m like 3 feet away!”  
Matt laughs hard at that.  
“Yeah well… what the fuck you know anyways.” Dean grumbles and he’d at least expected more sympathy than this.  
“Stop laughing!” He says while slapping Matt’s hand.  
Matt laughs harder.  
“Shoo, gay fucking porn.” Dean mutters, taking another drag. He passes the joint back to Matt and looks how Matt’s lips form around it.  
Matt looks up at him, eyebrow arched.  
 “You’re a lot like him you know?”  
Matt nods, glazed look in his eyes. “Sam," He clears his throat, "you look like him too.” Matt has some serious pretty boy looks. Like Hollywood actor good looks. Dean thinks it must be a gay thing to look this good. He doesn’t feel threatened, nu-uh.  
  
Matt’s eyes smile at him, like, his eyes are for real smling at him. What comes out of his mouth is barely a whisper but Dean hears him anyway. “Explains a lot.”

Dean had definitely heard that.  
“What?”  
Matt sighs, but a smile forms right after that.  “D.,  you’re too fucking adorable.” Dean nods in agreement.  
“But you’re also a complete shit.”  
Dean’s still nodding in agreement until he realizes what Matt just accused him of.  
“I know I am, but how’d you figure?”  
  
Matt’s grin gets creepily bigger and bigger and Dean can see rows of perfect white teeth.  
“Dude! What?” Dean asks impatiently, maybe wanting to punch Matt in his perfect white teeth.  
  
“I think…” Matt takes a dramatic pause, raising his finger to point at Dean. “You want to fuck your little buddy.”  
Dean’s mouth falls open.  
  
“And I also think he pretty much wants to fuck you senseless too.”  
  
“Silence!” Dean says, trying not to laugh, because… that’s ridiculous, right? Right?!  
   
“Oooh, boy I bet he’d love your purdy cocksucking lips wrapped around his dick.” Matt says while smacking his lips putting on a hillbilly voice.  
  
“Dude!” Dean actually giggles. God he hates being stoned. He should be smashing Matt’s face in right now. But not  _really_  though.  
  
“Oooh and I bet you’d luv his big thick cock all the way up buried in your purdy lil ass.”  
Matt continues.  
  
“Nah, I’m pretty sure that’s all you want!” And he grabs at his stomach while shaking with soundless laughter. Why was that as funny as it was. What.  
“Uh-huh.” Matt says, somewhat serious.  
A tear escapes Dean’s eye and he wipes at it, trying to pull himself together.  
“God! Sammy would’ve loved this”  
  
“Sammy, huh?”  
Dean nods.   
“So… why isn’t he here?”  
  
Dean stares at him blankly for a moment. “Cuz, I was pretty sure you’d end up fucking him.”  
  
Matt’s surprised look turns into a sly grin. “Hell boy, I really need to meet this guy!”  
Dean does not appreciate this. No.  
  
“Sooo, like I said, you want his dick up YOUR ass.”  
  
“No!” Dean shouts and then pauses for effect. “I want mine in his!” And then he’s done for. Hysterical laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep inside and he doesn’t even know how or why.  _– God-_  He really doesn’t care anymore.  
Matt stops laughing sometime along the way and is now looking at Dean seriously. Dean doesn’t dare to laugh anymore by now.  
“The fuck you doin’ here Dean?” Matt asks, Texas all out.  
  
“Cuz.” Dean tries, holding his facial expressions as still as possible. “You’re awesome.”  
  
“Seems to me, you’re avoiding some hot nasty gay sex…. And lemme tell you buddy, that’s a real shame.”  
  
“Sush Matt!” Dean says, trying not to giggle at the words  _gay sex_.  
  
“Just saying.. you know.. GIT the fuck outta here.”  
  
Dean nods, shakes his head and looks at Matt with an expression that could probably resemble fear and despair. He looks at his legs and back up to Matt. “I can’t feel my legs!”

 ***

_Sam returns to their room and finds a red-eyed Dean sprawled out on the bed surrounded by food.  
“Sammy!” Dean greets him enthusiastically without his fucking pants on.  
  
“Hi Dean.” Sam says cautiously, not sure what to expect next.  
Before he can ask Dean anything else he sees a tall body entering the room.  
The guy smiles friendly at Sam and steps forward with his hand out.  
  
“Hey, you must be Sam.” The guy drawls. Sam imagines he can hear a Texan twang.   
Sam sizes him up quickly. The guy is well built, about Sam’s height, but he seems too much of a pretty-boy to be a threat.  
  
“Hi.” Sam says, slowly extending his own hand, beyond curious for this guy and what the fuck he’s exactly doing here, with his half naked brother more specifically. He might’ve squeezed the guy's hand harder than necessary. The guy didn’t even flinch.  
  
“Sammy! Meet Matt.” Dean smiles from his position on the bed, stuffing his face with a fistful of chips. “Matt’s awesome!”  
  
“And you’re stoned.” Sam says suddenly very annoyed and turns his attention back to ‘Matt’. Who’s this guy Dean trusts enough to be fucking drugged around? Maybe that’s the problem.The fact that D_ _ean isn't getting stoned with him. Sam might’ve said no, but still._

_Dean chuckles like an idiot in return. Great.  
  
Sam looks back at Matt and finds Matt watching him, studying him with this enigmatic knowing and foremost annoying smile.   
Sam glares at him, definitely not in the fucking mood to be polite or whatever. Sam studies the guy in return. And something dawns on him. Except for the obvious, being tall, he kind of resembles Sam in a way. He wonders if Dean has done this subconsciously. And if so, what has he exactly been doing ‘subconsciously’?  
Sam feels like punching something.  
  
“Dean’s a lightweight.” Matt says, eyeing Sam from head to toe. And Sam feels like squirming.   
“Fuck you.” Dean replies chuckling. “Sammy’s the lightweight!”  
  
Matt’s eyes roam over him again and he grins. “Find that very hard to believe.” He says and Sam wants to punch him square in his perfect white teeth.  
  
Sam watches as Matt goes over to Dean, mouthing something and doing something of a buddy handshake. Sam has never seen Dean like this. Dean lets out a loud laugh and makes a –call me- gesture as Matt leaves. What the fuck?  
“Nice meeting you, Sam.” Matt smiles as he walks past Sam.  
  
He turns back to see Dean, now sprawled starfish-like on the bed.   
Sam feels irrational anger boiling up inside him.  
“What did you guys do?”  
“What?” Dean replies after a beat or two.  
“What were you doing in here?” Sam is maybe trembling on his legs a bit.  
“Nothin’”  
“Why are you half naked Dean?!”  
Dean chuckles softly and answers a slow “Comfy.” while his hand slides down his boxer and rests there.  
Sam breathes out angrily, can't handle looking at Dean when he’s like that, so open and obviously happy. He can’t stay here; Not with him seething, about to punch a totally spaced out Dean._  
  
***  
  
Dean hears stumbling in the hallway. Fumbling at the door.  _– Fucking Sam.-  
_ He’d been worried sick, waiting up for that morose little fuck.  
He notices Sam’s failure of an attempt to tread in softly but Dean’s way too pissed off to let him off the hook.  
   
“Fuck, Sam!” He says loudly, startling Sam.  
“Where the fuck have you been?” Dean continues as he walks over to Sam.  
“You’re gone for hours, fuck knows where! And you don’t even pick up your goddamn phone!”  
 Dean’s now standing in front of him. “You smell like shit! Where have you been?”  
  
Sam just sighs. “Calm down, Dean. I’m fine… I was just out.”   
Dean notices how he’s swaying a little and if the alcohol on his baby brother’s breath is anything to go by… one would say Sam is drunk.  
“Are you drunk?!” Dean asks.  
  
“Yeah so?” Sam brings himself to his full height but can’t seem to stand that way for long.

“What.. all by yourself?” Dean’s holding Sam by his shoulders, but Sam keeps swatting at him.  
  
“Nah, found some pretty good company who wanted his dick sucked.”   
Dean actually forgets to breathe for a moment.  
  
“The fuck Sam?” Dean doesn’t even know what to think or how to feel about  _that_.  
  
“So? You gon’ judge me all the sudden?” He actually sounds small for a moment “ Can’t fuck anyone… and goes around fucking whoever himself.” Sam mumbles to the ground.  
  
Dean’s not sure what he’s hearing but Sam needs to snap the fuck out of it.   
“Fuck you.” Dean says. That gets Sam attention. “Yeah fuck you. I ain’t fucking no one and you can do whatever the fuck you want!”  
  
“Oh really Dean? How about Matt then huh?”  
 _He could slap Sam by now. Fucker.  
_  
“What?” Sam asks defiantly. “I saw how he looked at me.” Sam’s voice goes lower.  
“He’d definitely wanna fuck me.”  
Dean doesn’t even know what this fight’s about. Sam’s pushing him, that’s for sure. And goddamn it’s working. The image of Sam and Matt enters his brain.  _And no! That’s just not gonna happen._  
  
“Hell if you will!” He growls and grabs Sam’s collar.  
Sam just doesn’t know when to fucking stop.   
  
“What? You want to fuck him yourself? Is that it?”  
Dean shoves Sam back in to the door, hard.  
Sam’s eyes widen. “Oh… You want  _him_  to fuck you, huh?”  
Sam chuckles and it doesn’t really sound right.  “Not much of a giver, are you Dean?”   
  
“Shut the fuck up.” Dean spits, blood boiling, slamming Sam against the door again before he practically swings him across the tiny room. Sam lands on Dean’s bed and he laughs. The fucker  _laughs._    
  
“What’s wrong Dean?” His eyes have a devilish glint.”Just a blow job, then?”  
Dean jumps half on top of him, straddling him.  _He’s going to shut him up._  
  
He towers over Sam, looking down at him. “Shut up.” He grunts, shifting in Sam’s lap. He can feel Sam’s cock underneath him. The bastard really is enjoying working him up.  
“I’m gonna give you something.” He grunts and grinds down on Sam. Sam’s breath hitches and he’s finally quiet. Dean feels triumphant for a second but he may have not taken in account what kind of effect this all would have on himself.  
Sam is looking at him, eyes wide and unblinking. Dean can tell you about a thousand looks Sam can get. But Dean sure is not familiar with this look.   
  
He’s going to push it again. Dean can already feel it.  
“Fucking do it then, Dean.” He says in a pant.  
  
Dean grinds down on Sam a bit harder now and Sam shuts his eyes, breathing ragged.   
Dean lowers his head and crashes his own lips down hard onto Sam’s. Sam opens up to him, wildly pushing his tongue in, battling Dean’s. Dean’s hand starts working on Sam’s zipper and he slides his hand down Sam’s boxers. He roughly grabs Sam’s cock and Sam bites down hard on Dean’s bottom lip in retaliation.  
  
“You little fucker.” Dean grunts and squeezes Sam hard. It only seems to rile him up further and Sam arches his back panting Dean’s name over and over again. Dean grins and licks a strip from Sam’s collarbone to his ear while stroking Sam from base to tip, his thumb moving over the slit every now and then, smearing the precum over Sam’s balls, dirtying him up.   
Dean looks down at where his hand is working Sam and is fascinated by what he’s doing. Sam’s cock is flush red, leaking and Dean feels and sees the control he has on Sam. He lowers himself down and Sam stops all movement, only the sound of his panting and a broken “De?” filling the room.  
As Dean gets lower he can smell Sam everywhere, the scent sharpening all his senses. Everything's tuned in on Sam now. Dean brings the head of Sam’s cock towards his lips and takes a tentative lick at the slit. Sam actually almost comes off the bed, muttering Dean’s name over and over again.  
So he wanted to see how much of a giver Dean was? Well….  
Dean takes the head entirely in his mouth, tongue playing around it, anywhere but the slit and takes Sam further. His hand squeezing its way down until his mouth meets his fist. He repeats the movement, going up and down. And when one of Dean’s fingers brush Sam’s balls his hips start stuttering and he’s coming in Dean’s mouth. Dean doesn’t swallow, oh no. He gathers every last drop and crawls back up Sam’s body, mouth coming down on Sam’s and feeding the bastard his own come. Who said Dean wasn’t a giver?  
  
Sam cleans Dean’s entire mouth, sucking hungrily on Dean’s tongue, before he passes out. The bastard.   
Dean takes out his own cock, it’s still rock hard and gives it a few tugs while he watches Sam’s passed out debauched form and comes all over his own hand. He stands up to go wash it off, but stops to smears most of it on Sam’s shirt before he goes to clean everything up.

It’s not until he’s lying in Sam’s bed (because the bitch passed out on him) that he realizes what the hell they’d done.  
So it’s established that Sam doesn’t mind cock. Dean doesn’t mind Sam’s cock. And ain’t that just the bitch of it all. Matt was right after all.

***

The next morning, Sam makes Dean do all the laundry and Dean is as loud as he can possibly be because Sam has a hangover.  
They don’t talk about it. And they won’t look at each other longer than necessary.  
Everything is well until Dean’s standing in his shorts gathering all the dirty clothes when Sam’s hand comes from nowhere and goes straight for Dean’s cock, whips it out and starts jerking him off. A hot whisper of “Shh, Dean it’s okay.” in his ear and Dean comes embarrassingly fast all over Sam’s hand and Sam, that bastard, wipes his hand on Dean’s last clean shirt.

***

Now that they’re doing this “thing”, whatever it is; Sam seems to be wanting to do it a lot. Preferably places where he knows Dean won’t be able to hide his fucked out face when he reemerges from a bathroom, public stall, movie theatre, restaurant (this, all in one day.)

In the next few days Sam drags him to museums, canal rides, bike tours and Dean goes along, because there’s always a promise of a blow/hand-job. And Dean seems to be enjoying both of them ( the sightseeing bits and the blow/hand-jobs. Maybe it’s Pavlovian, Sam taught him that. )

Matt comes along with them a few times. He takes them to awesome little markets with the subway and to American Stand-Up comedy shows, makes sure to buy them the amazing bitterballs every chance he gets, smirking at Dean (but Dean fucking loves those things so, yeah, whatever). Sam is still a pit-bull around him and the blowjobs he gives Dean after they’ve met with Matt are the best ones Dean has ever received.  
  
At night Sam climbs into bed with Dean and they fool around, a lot.   
In the morning Dean finds himself tangled with Sam. There’s no telling where he begins and Sam ends. Sam kisses him morning breath and all and they slowly peel themselves away from each other. After that Sam is back to being overly energetic and wanting to do 'stuff'. Nothing changes really.   
  
Sam asks Dean to finger him in the shower while Dean gives him head and Sam comes all over Dean’s face. Only once does Sam try to finger Dean and that’s when Dean freaks out. Sam gives him amazing head and lets Dean fuck him for the first time. Sam comes so hard some of his come finds it’s way into Dean’s hair.   
The next day Dean asks Sam to fuck him.  
  
Matt comes to wave them off at the airport and for the first time in his entire life, Dean hugs a man goodbye that is not his family or Bobby. He tells Matt to give him a call whenever he decides to be in the States again.  
  
Dean is actually sad to leave Amsterdam and Matt.  Now, Dean is not one to get attached to places. But he’ll miss this crazy city.  
Sam seems to pick up on his mood and drags him away by his sleeve.  
“What are you doing?” Dean asks.  
  
“Airport sex.” Sam smirks.  
And yeah. Dean’s definitely going to miss this place, but he’ll have a reminder of it whenever Sam decides to get him off.   
  
Dean smirks and grabs Sam’s ass, making Sam yelp and actually growl. He'll remember that for later.  
  
“I love Amsterdam.”  
  
***  
  
Einde!


End file.
